


Partners in Crime

by icountcards



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, INCREDIBLY self indulgent folks, Undercover, definitely writing this solely because I want it to exist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 04:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19124428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icountcards/pseuds/icountcards
Summary: When a pair of assassins turn up dead, Riley and Desi take their place in order to both take down the duo's employer and put their latest target, a shady businessman, behind bars instead of in the ground.(Of course it's not as simple as it sounds.)





	Partners in Crime

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be for Macgyver May week 4: Favorite Trope (undercover missions & fake dating are both great tropes if you ask me), but I didn't finish it in time, so instead y'all get gay content for Pride month! (The Riley/Desi is fake... _for now_ )
> 
> (If you're a longtime NCIS fan some of this fic may seem familiar; some elements are borrowed from an old episode of that show.)

Desi’s been watching the door since they arrived at the restaurant, anxious for their mystery contact to show his face. Minutes tick by, an unpleasant feeling curling in the pit of her stomach with every second he’s late; this could be a setup, and maybe the accident that killed the real Kira Warner and Jessica Lang was no accident after all, and this supposed meetup is a means of finishing the job. Bad enough that it’s too risky to have active comms for this. She’s about thirty seconds away from calling it off and getting her and Riley the hell out when a man who must be the one they’re meeting walks in and makes a beeline for their table in the corner.

Their dining companion is a tall, thin man with graying hair cropped close to his skull and the stiff posture of someone who’s used to looking over his shoulder. Desi clocks at least four knives against the clean lines of his suit, probably another in his belt buckle, and if there’s not a gun in his briefcase, she’ll eat the fancy cloth napkin in front of her. “Ladies,” he says, shifting his briefcase to his left hand and holding out his right. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Pleasure,” Desi says flatly, taking the offered hand and gripping it just on the wrong side of too tightly. 

He takes the seat across from Riley, settling the briefcase on the chair next to him. “I’ve heard so much about the two of you.” 

Riley grins sharply at him. “All of it bad, I hope,” she says, tugging the hem of her dress to straighten it across her lap. It’s a very nice dress, slinky, midnight blue, and absolutely stunning. (Scratch that, _Riley’s_ stunning. She’s stunning on an ordinary day, and doubly so tonight.)

Before he can respond, their waiter has returned, no longer hovering a polite distance away waiting for their group to be complete. “Can I interest you in our wine menu this evening?” he asks.

“A bottle of champagne for the table, I think,” their companion says. “Whatever you would recommend for a celebration.”

The waiter nods. “Of course, sir. Right away.” He disappears into the kitchen.

Riley tilts her head, the light catching on her earrings and sending tiny triangles of light dancing across the table. “What's the occasion?”

The man smiles in a way that doesn't quite reach his eyes. “It's my understanding congratulations are in order,” he says, gesturing expansively at the two of them, “on your engagement.”

It's probably a good thing the champagne hasn't arrived yet, Desi thinks, because she's pretty sure if Riley had been drinking something, she would've spit it out. Desi only covers her shock marginally better, eyebrows shooting up. “Word travels fast,” she says, and hopefully her expression reads as surprise that he knows rather than revealing the fact that this is news to her. 

“That it does, Misses… Lang? Warner? Or will you be hyphenating?” 

“She’s taking my name,” Desi says quickly, before Riley can start to say something to contradict her. 

“Kira Lang has a nice ring to it, don’t you think,” Riley adds, inching her hand over to overlap Desi’s on the table. 

“Really,” he says, eyebrows raised. “You’re willing to let go of the Warner legacy?”

Oh. Shit. Maybe Desi should’ve said she was the one dropping her name. 

Riley looks unconcerned, though, shrugging with one shoulder. “A fresh start can be a good thing,” she says. “Fresh start, new city, new name. Think of it as a new beginning.” 

He gives their entwined hands a pointed look. “No rings?” 

Desi glances down at their hands. Belatedly, it occurs to her that Riley’s hand over hers was probably an attempt to cover the lack of a ring on her hand. Riley tenses almost imperceptibly next to her. Desi gives him a humorless smile. “Did you take us for the traditional type?” 

“Of course not,” he says, and there's a look in his eyes like he doesn't quite buy it, but he's been wearing the same paranoia since he walked in. It could be nothing. She hopes it's nothing. 

The waiter returns with their bottle of champagne, and the man says nothing more on the subject until the champagne is poured, their meals ordered, and the waiter has disappeared again. He picks up his champagne flute and holds it up in a toast. “To new beginnings,” he says with that same cold smile. 

“New beginnings,” Desi echoes as she and Riley raise their glasses.

“Rumor has it you’re retiring,” he says as he sets his glass down. “After the wedding.”

“We’re still weighing our options,” Desi says, because she has no idea if Kira Warner and Jessica Lang were planning on calling it quits on the assassination business after they got hitched.

“No going-out-of-business markdown, if that’s what you’re asking,” Riley adds, mouth quirking up into a smile as she edges more into Desi’s personal space, pressing their shoulders together. “No two-for-ones on pest control.” And Desi knows the proximity’s all for show, but that doesn’t stop her from leaning into it, giving Riley an infatuated look that’s not entirely feigned. 

He doesn't laugh. “My employer is prepared to pay whatever it takes to get rid of this pest.” 

The waiter returns with their meals, and they fall silent until he's disappeared again. “So,” Desi says, tilting her head. “Tell us about this pest problem.”

“There's a commercial real estate conference taking place in LA this weekend,” he says. “One of the attendees is… in need of your services.” He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a thumb drive, which he sets on the table between them. “Everything you need to know is here.” 

Riley snags the thumb drive and slips it into the glittery clutch she's carrying. “Any special considerations we should know about up front?” she asks. “Incidentals cost extra.” She smiles sharply, and a shiver runs down Desi’s spine. Riley Davis does dangerous well. 

(Desi maybe likes danger a little much for her own good.)

The man hums thoughtfully. “Might be resistant to standard methods,” he says slowly. 

Desi nods. Their target travels with bodyguards. “Not a problem.”

“You’ve already received the down payment. The rest will be transferred to you on completion,” he says. 

“Perfect,” Desi says, giving him the tiniest of humorless smiles. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” he says. 

The rest of their meal passes in an uneasy sort of silence. Something seems off about the man they’re dining with, but it’s nothing concrete, nothing that’s clearly anything other than whatever would make him the kind of person to hire a killer. Still, Desi breathes a sigh of relief when their tab is paid and they’re out of the restaurant and away from the man. 

As soon as they're on the road and definitely not being followed, Desi takes one hand off the wheel to call the Phoenix. “Was anyone going to tell us the assassins we’re impersonating were engaged?” she says as soon as Matty picks up. 

“They're what?” Matty sounds as surprised by the news as they were. Not a good sign. 

“Engaged,” Desi repeats. “To be married,” she adds, like there’s any ambiguity there.

A low whistle echoes across the line. “Talk about a power couple,” Bozer says somewhere in the background. 

Riley’s got her laptop open and she’s scrolling through something. “FBI’s file on Lang and Warner doesn’t say a word about them being in a relationship,” she says.

Desi rolls her eyes. “Figures.” 

“Do we know who their target is?” Matty asks. 

“Working on it.” Riley plugs the thumb drive into her computer. “Here we go. Richard Dawson,” she says after a moment. “Owns several resort properties in the LA area. Checking if we have anything on him now.” 

“Any reason someone would want him dead?” Desi asks.

Riley frowns at the screen. “He’s suspected of having ties to one of the cartels, but law enforcement hasn’t been able to find anything concrete,” she says. “Could be motive if he does.” She clicks to something else. “This conference is being held at one of his resorts.”

“Could be a cover for something shady,” Desi says, frowning. 

“That conference is our best chance to find whoever wants Dawson dead and pin down Dawson’s criminal ties,” Matty says. 

“Conference starts Friday,” Riley says, typing rapidly. “And… Kira Warner and Jessica Lang are now registered to attend.” She grins. 

“Good. See you in the morning, lovebirds,” Matty says, tone amused. She hangs up before Desi or Riley can respond, and Desi stares at the phone in shock for a second at the rare humor from their boss. 

Riley catches a glimpse of her expression and laughs. “What? Am I that bad of a fiancée?” 

“How is this not weird to you?” Desi side-eyes Riley. Initial shock aside, she’s taking being fake-engaged weirdly well, considering it’s made their current mission a lot more complicated from here on out. 

Riley just shrugs. “Not the weirdest thing that’s happened,” she says. “Have I told you about the time Bozer and I got fake married?”


End file.
